


Day Eighteen

by Nikasha



Series: Kinktober 2019 [18]
Category: Before Crisis: Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Bloodplay, Fear Play, Knifeplay, M/M, Turks (Compilation of FFVII)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-22
Updated: 2019-10-22
Packaged: 2020-12-28 16:20:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21139583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nikasha/pseuds/Nikasha
Summary: Day EighteenPrompt: Knifeplay/bitingPairing: Reno/Tseng





	Day Eighteen

**Author's Note:**

> Why is Reno/Tseng not its own tag???? Fucking excuse me!? That is muh ship of ships! So rude.
> 
> Anyway, enjoy some backlog.

Reno twisted the knife between his fingers dexterously. He was just standing at the kitchen counter, eyeing it thoughtlessly and listening to the tv in the other room. He was pretty sure Tseng had retreated to another room to read.  
He eyed the clock. It was slowly trekking towards afternoon and they hadn’t eaten yet. He could probably make something.  
Arms wrapped around him and he startled, flipping the knife and grabbing a wrist before placing the point towards where the jugular should be on his assailant.  
His world flipped and suddenly he was on his back, arms pinned. He blinked, trying to gather his bearings.  
Dark eyes watched him with bemusement. Tseng made that small, tight little smile when he saw Reno’s recognition. “I apologize for scaring you.”  
Reno huffed. “Well, geez, bossman, you could’ve at least made some noise.” He tugged on his arm, but Tseng didn’t let him up. He raised a brow, a wry smirk spreading across his face. “Something wrong?”  
Tseng didn’t answer. He looked Reno over, then at the blade gripped in his hand. His expression didn’t change, but Reno felt the shift. “Perhaps,” Tseng answered softly.  
Reno tightened his hold on the knife. “It’s not like that,” he snapped. “It was just...fidgeting.” It sounded like such a pathetic excuse now.  
Tseng seemed to agree. He gave Reno a long, hard look, then reached up, freeing Reno’s arms, and gently took the knife from him.  
Reno didn’t move, intrigued. The air was a little tense.  
Tseng turned the knife in his fingers, examining it. “Interesting choice,” he said idly. “I often sharpen these to make sure they can cut food well. And there are plenty of larger blades, but you picked such a small one. Perfectly for precision work.” He tapped the blunt side on his finger, head tilting. Reno’s attention was caught by the spill of dark hair sliding over his shoulder. “Reno.” His clicked his fingers. “Pay attention.”  
Reno’s eyes snapped back to Tseng and he held his gaze in a challenge. “I know better than to trust a Turk with a knife,” he said playfully.  
Tseng blinked at him. “You don’t trust me, Reno?” he asked, tone carefully flat.  
Reno grinned widely. “Hell no.”  
Tseng chuckled, then leaned down to press their mouths together.  
Reno shivered. Touching Tseng in any capacity was always a hard-won victory, as professional as he preferred to be, but Reno wouldn’t deny that Tseng’s kisses were memories he secreted away every time to be kept like wishes in a jar. He craved it.  
Tseng sat upright again, the knife a twisting flash of light in his hand. He leaned in and pressed the edge to Reno’s throat, whispering in his ear. “You’re right not to trust. If you did, I’d kill you myself.”  
But Reno knew that. Kept that fact in the back of his mind like a badge of honor. Turks could trust each other to a certain extent, watching each other’s backs and feeding each other information, but one on one, a deadly person is just as deadly to a friend as an enemy.  
Reno felt a lock of Tseng’s hair slide across his cheek and he swallowed lightly, trying to avoid nudging the knife too hard. The sharpened edge was cold against his skin, and he couldn’t rightly tell if it had cut him already or not. Endorphins were tricky.  
Tseng bit down on his ear and Reno arched suddenly, throwing Tseng’s weight off-balance and rolling them sideways. He fought to pin the Wutain down, but he found himself against the floor again with a grunt. He huffed, never losing his grin.  
Tseng glared at him for a moment, then held up the knife, newly tinged with red.  
Oops.  
Reno felt the warmth then, the slide down the side of his neck. “Damn,” he complained. “You could’ve killed me, bossman.”  
Tseng narrowed his eyes at Reno’s lackadaisical tone. “I’m hardly that careless,” he said flatly. His breath paused as Reno rolled his hips up into Tseng’s. Black hair, tousled by their wrestling, fell forward to hide part of Tseng’s expression. What could be seen was carefully neutral, as always.  
Reno took a chance and bent his legs, his unpinned hand resting on Tseng’s thigh. Tseng glanced at him and he just smiled patiently. “Please?” he said pointedly.  
Tseng shook his head. “Greedy,” he said with a sigh. He reached forward and held the knife to Reno’s teeth. The redhead could feel the surprise on his face. “Open.”  
Reno obeyed and the blade went into his mouth, held sideways. Getting the gist, Reno bit down carefully, holding it.  
Tseng let go. He watched Reno for the barest moment to make sure he had a good grip, then went about disrobing them both. Reno did his best to help, but he was pretty sure by the smack on the stomach he got that he was being more trouble than helpful. He stopped, as Tseng now had a pretty good angle at kicking his balls.  
Tseng always knew how to take him apart almost methodically. Reno never resisted, of course, but the sheer accuracy of Tseng’s movements and touches made Reno wonder how much care he put into this.  
When the heat was nearly at its highest and Reno was gasping around the knife, Tseng took it back. He pressed the edge to Reno’s skin and he nearly lost it right then and there, holding still as he fought not to let Tseng make him bleed. But he couldn’t hold completely still, and he was soon covered in small cuts that stung. He noticed Tseng distracted appreciating the marks and laughed at him. That got the knife pressed to his face. “They look like your tattoos,” Tseng commented idly, tracing the red streaks with the tip of the blade.  
He didn’t mark his face, though. He just covered him in slices and when that wasn’t enough, he put his teeth to Reno’s chest and left bruises as well. Even when Reno finally broke, gasping raggedly as he painted Tseng in white, he felt the knife press against his throat again and a hiss of pleasure in his ear.  
Reno lost clarity on the moment at some point. He remembered clearly Tseng whispering his name in his ear and stinging ointment wiped across all the cuts covering his torso and small bandages pressed here and there, but it was almost foggy. Time certainly had ceased for that moment, and it felt like waking from a dream when he found himself curled up against Tseng on the couch. He shifted and winced, then felt a soft hand petting his hair. “You awake?” he asked groggily.  
“Of course.”  
He lifted his head to see Tseng had a book propped against his knee, one hand keeping it still. He huffed and laid his head on Tseng’s shoulder again.  
“Go to sleep,” Tseng said absently.  
Reno pressed a kiss to Tseng’s neck. Ignoring the tension that put into his partner, he closed his eyes. Thank Gaia he had yelled at Tseng that one time for not cuddling him right after.  
This was nice.

**Author's Note:**

> I should mention I did research on knifeplay for this. Apparently most of the time it doesn’t actually involve injuries, for safety reasons, but that’s why we dabble in fantasy, folks.
> 
> List used: https://twitter.com/idek_uggy/status/1178349575725174786?s=21


End file.
